The Dancing Assassin
by Woody2792
Summary: Dance is a perfect way to express emotion, feeling, and to help people. This is exactly what Ziva and Gibbs use it as. It all starts when Ziva reverts back to dancing as a stress reliever. A multi-chapter Ziva-centric ZIBBS fic.
1. Chapter 1

In many ways, a dancer is just the same as an assassin. They both tell a story, both require precision and are beautiful to the right audience. Both are art forms that take years to refine and even when at the very top, there is always something that can be improved or tweaked.

This was a conclusion that Ziva had finally come to accept, and it was one she did not regret. Yes, she was a trained killer and yes she was an astounding sniper, but somewhere deep inside she was still the little girl who longed for her aba to come to her dance recitals. She had put everything she possessed into learning her dance moves and making sure that she stretched enough for them and knew how to put on a show to the highest possible standard. When she was removed from this discipline, she learnt to use her dancer's dedication to develop other skills. She became highly proficient at martial arts thanks to hours of study and practice; combining the moves she learnt with her precision she had gained from dancing made her a deadly youngster. This was a surprise to everyone but Ziva - she had absolute belief in herself and what she was capable of. It all stemmed from her want to impress her father, make him proud of her.

Later, this need to be the best was added to with her want to seek retribution on all those who were cut from the same mould as Tali's killers. She rarely spoke of her sister's death in from of anyone else, but once alone it was a different story. For the year after the bombing Ziva regularly shed tears for her sister in the dead of night. However on the anniversary something inside her clicked. This was no way to grieve, and certainly was not suitable for the future of Mossad. Emotions were a weakness, just as her father said, and she was done with being weak.

So it was time for her to put her feelings aside, and become the best she could. No one had seen dedication to training such as hers, and this did little to make her feel any pride. Instead she accepted the commendations and simply continued with as many missions as she could, taking down anyone who posed a threat to Israel and Mossad.

Very few things reminded her of her dark dancing past except for the slight breathlessness she felt after a particularly difficult kata in martial arts or fight on a mission. Sometimes she felt a little nudge in the back of her mind as something reawakened her muscle memory, and very rarely she allowed herself to play through a routine as she lay awake on a mission. At all other times it was as though she had never danced, had never experienced the stage and had never felt the disappointment when her papa didn't watch her.

Once she joined NCIS it was a very different story though. No matter how much she tried to keep her past hidden and her walls up, she found them crumbling around her and people - the team - clamouring to be let in. Slowly but surely they got their way, and it was due to this break down in her solidarity that she foud herself in the gym one evening. She was packing up after a hard training session when she found herself holding her music player. With a quick glance around her to check that all the lights were still off around her, to check that she was alone, she slipped the earbuds in and switched it on.

It was as though she had been transported back all those years as relief and the sense of freedom swept through her. The innocence of her childhood took over and she closed her eyes, letting the beat run through her. She began to stretch her arms out, her legs to each side, and when the song switched seamlessly into the next she went with it. Her form was a little rusty, and very different to how she used to dance, but it came so naturally that she didn't stop to think or analyse it. It was something where she felt safe, in a place she regarded as home, so she felt no need to open her eyes. She preferred to keep them shut, letting the dance flow from within and move her where it wanted to go.

Three songs later the ending faded out, and Ziva found herself curled on the floor, her right leg curled under her with her arms stretching out over her left one in front of her, her forehead touching her knee. To her surprise she found tears running down her cheeks; instead of wiping them away she left them where they were - a testimony to who she was and where she had come from. She remained on the floor a little longer, stretching her limbs out to their fullest, before standing up and grabbing her kit.

It was clear to her, now, that there was no removing of the dancer within her, merely just ways to adapt her. For Mossad, her control and poise was perfect to be a sniper, her extension and energies perfect for martial arts, and her fitness was perfect for enduring her missions, and when it came to victims and witnesses in NCIS, her intuition with the music was perfect. So while to some a dancer and assassin are at opposite ends of the world, to Ziva they were next-door to each other.

* * *

_So, hey there. I realise I've been away from fanfic for rather a long time, and it's something I regret. However I must reassure you that I do have little niggles for stories every so often, and when Life lets me, I put them to paper._

_I hope this one's okay for you folks - feel free to drop me a line or two and comment - be it a good comment or a bad one._

_Woody2792x_


	2. Chapter 2

The bonding between her two sides was by no means seamless and easy, but nor was it intentional either. Ziva did not mean to engage herself in dance again; she was not going to spurn it or ignore it – her acceptance of it did not mean she had to embrace it with open arms and enthusiasm. Despite her lack of deliberateness or concern with dance, she could not help but find herself re-engaging with that side of her again and again. It was not planned or thought through; there were weeks where she danced two or three times, and then other times she would go without for a month or so.

One evening after a particularly difficult case and full-on workout, she had her earbuds in and was letting the music wash over her, the beat pulsating through her body almost overriding her heartbeat. She'd forgotten that she had this track on her music player, but with the piano notes cascading over her she soon lost herself in the music. Instead of stopping after a few songs like she had previously, she felt too wired up to stop, too engaged in the rhythm to call it to an end, so she continued. Time became meaningless, her day faded into nothing, and it was only as she stumbled a little into the punch bag and rebounded into something solid and warm that she realised how dark and deathly silent everywhere was.

Ziva quickly grabbed at the earbuds which were now dangling around her shins before she staggered again, and this time felt hands grab her waist. She did not bother to try to process anything, instead letting her instinct take over. She made a fist with her left hand, cupped her right over the top and jabbed her whole arm backwards, slamming her elbow into her attacker causing a 'whoosh' of air over her shoulder. She span quickly, back fisted the jaw and went for a punch to the solar plexus. But it never made contact. Someone had grabbed her hand, and was now holding her close. If she was not more than a little dizzy and confused, she'd have continued to beat her assailant into submission. As it was, the world around her slowly turned into darkness, a murmuring voice remaining unidentified and unintelligible.

Slowly, the world came back into focus, as did feeling and hearing. As per her training she did an initial first assessment without moving – there was no pain anywhere, but there was a pair of hands on her; were they cradling her? She couldn't quite work out how she was positioned either: she was not flat on the floor but neither was she sitting up, or curled up… She felt no need to try and fight the hands that were holding her – ignoring the fact she was none to steady and had collapsed upon her previous attempt, but there was something about them that felt…_right_.

'Woah, Ziver, I've got you. Don't move too much.'

'Gibbs? What happened to me? Why are you here?'

'Jus' checking on you and I guess I got lucky. Today was a tough case and I knew you'd take it hard. Guess you did too much… Didn't know you danced.'

Ziva avoided answering for a little while, easing herself to a more upright position, still using Gibbs for stability though. She presumed she must have collapsed, and after looking at the clock she knew why. Gym training for over an hour, followed by what must have been two hours of dancing was not the best idea on an empty stomach normally, let alone when feeling drained and exhausted.

'C'mon Ziva, you're coming with me – don't try arguing, not gonna work.'

Slowly they stood up and Gibbs grabbed her duffle bag and walked her to his car, one supporting arm around her waist the whole time. He pulled in at an all-night diner and they went in, sitting in the corner booth. Ziva just let him order for them both, taking very little notice of it except for when the waitress put down a mug of tea in front of her, along with a plate of toast.

'So, when did you start dancing Ziva?'

* * *

_Okay, so you guys pretty much have Zivacentric to thank for this chapter... Originally a one shot but there's definitely at least one more chapter to come after this, perhaps two. A shout out to all reviewers - muchos love to you all - and a quick mention for Zivatjl12 - I think you'll enjoy where this is headed._

_Please stay tuned and keep reviewing!_

_Woody2792x_


	3. Chapter 3

Neither Ziva nor Gibbs took any notice of the time that passed until the diner waitress asked if they were planning on going anytime soon – the diner had actually closed two hours earlier but she had left them talking while she tidied up and prepared for closing. They quickly hurried out, thanking the waitress profusely and tipping her generously. When Ziva called for a cab Gibbs grabbed her cell and hung up.

'What are you doing Gibbs? I need to get back to my apartment and at least have a shower and get changed; I doubt there is any point sleeping for 40 minutes.'

'Nope. You're coming with me, don't want you drivin' after tonight.'

'I am fine Gibbs, it is only a short cab ride back and I am fine now! It was just a stumble–'

'Yeah, a stumble that you never make Ziver. No point arguing, you're staying at mine and we'll swing by your apartment on the way into work.'

She sighed deeply, followed by a shrug, and then walked to Gibbs' car; if she was totally honest with herself his protective streak made her feel safe. It was only a small thing, but she was not used to it being so blatant or vocalised. Besides, she reasoned, from a simply economical point of view this would be the cheaper option.

When they reached Gibbs' house he lead her up to the spare room and laid out an old NIS tee, the red hoodie and jogging pants. She saw them and looked at him with wide eyes.

'Gibbs, what is this? We have to be at work in… 2 hours. There is barely anytime for sleep when you factor in travel and going to my apartment!'

'I spoke to Vance before visiting the gym tonight, managed to convince him the team needed a personal day after that case.'

'Why am I not at y own place then?'

'Wanted to make sure you're okay. Go, sleep. We can sort things out tomorrow.'

He pressed a kiss to her temple, squeezed her shoulder and walked out of the room, leaving her for the night. She changed into the clothes he had given her, minus the hoodie, and slipped between the soft sheets of the bed. She had never quite understood how inanimate objects could contain the _essence_ of someone, but lying there, surrounded by Gibbs' belongings, she understood it completely. She could smell the effect of the ship building, the slight hint of bourbon, and the natural musk that seemed to define musk.

Her thoughts trailed off and she fell into a contented sleep.

* * *

_Hi there, ever so sorry about the slight time lapse - life's been pretty hectic over the last few days! It's really thanks to Zivacentric's poking that This is being uploaded now! (you should totally go and check her writings out though - they're beyond amazing :)_

_I realise this is a little shorter than the previous ones, however the next chapter should be longer than any posted so far... So hold on! Also, since I'm due to go on holiday this weekend for a week, I'm not very sure when I'll be able to update again - I'll definitely have it written for when I return though... *plots and plans*_

_Thank you for all the favourites/alerts; don't be afraid to drop me a line or two in a review - I don't bite but I do reply to each and every one I receive._

_Woody2792x_


	4. Chapter 4

It was not until the Sun was firmly up in the sky for the day that Ziva woke up. At first she was a bit disorientated but it did not take too long for her memories to come flooding back, especially the one of Gibbs refusing to let her go anywhere other than home with him. Her smile at this quickly vanished when she caught sight of the clock on the wall - not only had she slept in past her normal run time, but it was also long after her normal lay-in allowance; three hours longer!

She quickly threw the red hoodie on over the tee and sweat pants and padded downstairs, only to be greeted by the sight of Gibbs in the kitchen laying the table. Not only could she also smell something cooking, but when Gibbs turned around to face her, he had a mug of tea, steaming hot, to hand over.  
'Knew you'd be up soon, figured since I still had some of your fancy teabags you'd like one o' them.'

Sure enough when Ziva looked as the liquid in her mug, it was her favourite flavour. She bit her lip as she remembered why he had some in the first place... Gibbs' house had turned into one of her favourite haunts after Ari had been shot; a mixture of her desperate need to be near where her brother had spent his final moments and knowing that she was safe here - Gibbs would keep her safe. There was never much said when she came in to sit in his basement - nothing _needed_ to be said - they had just co-existed, one drinking tea, the other bourbon. A similar practice had occured after returning from Somalia, although it had not been as frequent, nor as peaceful.

Breakfast was a quick event, the food disappearing from both plates very quickly after being served up. Gibbs then let Ziva go in the shower first, using the time to make a phonecall and clear up from breakfast. Once she reappeared, this time in a different set of his sweatpants teamed with his hoodie again, he went off to get ready. Ziva busied herself tidying the kitchen and living room, acutely aware that everytime she turned quickly, she did not smell of her usual mango bodywash...

Once ready they drove over to her apartment. Gibbs hung around as Ziva got dressed, taking the time to look around him and take note of the little details. There were a few photos on the mantlepiece, two family ones and then a few ones of the team - one from a crimescene, the Christmas party from the previous year, and one taken at Abby's insistence when they all went to the bar a few months ago. He'd forgotten all about it even being taken until seeing that print... Perhaps he'd have to ask Abby for a copy of it some time. He moved on a little and was squinting at a sheet of paper covered in a jumble of dots and squiggles when Ziva re-entered the living room and came to stand by him, by the piano.  
'I shall return your clothes once they have been washed, unless you need them today?'  
'Please yourself, not desperate for 'em no. Didn't know you played the piano Ziva.'  
'Yes, another skill from my childhood. I invested in a piano when I initially joined NCIS; since I was settling for a few years I thought I might get time to play again.'  
'What's this one? Can't read the title.'  
'It's an... An old Hebrew song-come-lullaby. My mother used to sing it to Tali and me when we were very young.'

There was a brief period of silence as Ziva began going through the piece of music in her mind, her fingers lightly moving in the air. She flinched back into the present as someone touched her cheek. Her eyes focussed on Gibbs, and his hand that had frozen when she had jerked backwards.  
'Got tears running down your face, didn't want you to start a flood.'  
This was enough to make Ziva smile, eliciting a small chuckle as well.  
'It does not usually affect me so much, but as fate would have it, it was the music I danced to last night. Not a good reason, I know, but - '  
'Don't need a reason for feeling something Ziver, it's not something to excuse or hide.'

He put his arm around her and pulled her into him, holding her against his chest while a few more tears escaped. Placing a kiss on top of her head, he pulled back and hooked a finger under her chin so he could look into her eyes.  
'You gotta rest up today. Been a long case, and need you refuelled. I'll be back at 1900 hours; you best be dressed up in something fancy.'  
'Do I get to know where we are going? Or more importantly, _why_ we are going somewhere?'  
'Nope, surprise. And sure, you'll find out tonight. S'for your own good; do you trust me?'  
'Always.'  
'See you at seven then.'

* * *

_Hey there, this is a repost to correct a few minor issues and cos I think messed up a little when I posted it last Saturday. Am currently towards the end of writing the next chapter, so will hopefully be posting that tomorrow!_

_As always, thank you for the alerts/favourites, and hope to hear a little line from you in a review :D_

_Woody2792x_


	5. Chapter 5

As Ziva stood in front of her wardrobe, looking through her dresses trying to decide what to wear for her mystery da-, no, her mystery outing, she shook her head. This was so out of character for Gibbs that she had no idea what to wear, do, or how to behave. She bit her lip, running her fingers down two of her favourite dresses. They each had their own merits, but if she wore the wrong one then she could look horribly out of place. One was a full length crimson satin dress with a sweetheart neckline; a souvenir from one of her early Mossad missions. Her other option was a knee-length asymmetric, deep green dress that cinched in at the waist and kick out a little at the bottom. Practicality demanded that she wore the latter, but a small part wanted her to wear the crimson dress… Her sense won out in the end, so she left the long dress hanging in her wardrobe – perhaps she would have an appropriate occasion to wear it one day.

She put a little make-up on, just to highlight her eyes and cheekbones before moving onto her hair. She uhmmed and ahhed before decided to blow dry it into a smooth style, down, but clipped away from the left side of her face. She put her heels on before making herself a cup of tea and waiting in the living room for her lift to arrive. She had had a fairly uneventful day after Gibbs had left; other than an afternoon nap and a light lunch all she had done was try to figure out where they would be going, and why. In the end she had tried to distract herself from the problem with a book, but she never made it past the third page.

There was a quick knock on the door and as she walked to go and answer it, she patted herself down to make sure that her weapons were securely in place. That was the one major downside of her 'going out purse' – it was never big enough to take any weapon of value. She undid the latch and opened the door to see Gibbs in formal trousers, shirt and shiny shoes, with a jacket slung over his shoulder. Ziva noticed the lack of tie or bowtie and was immediately comforted that she did not choose her more formal dress.

'Do you wish to come in, or are we to go now?'

'Got a cab waiting, you ready?'

'Let me lock the door and I shall be, yes. Am I over-dressed for tonight? I do not wish to look ut of place.'

'You're perfect, no need to worry.'

Am I allowed to know where it is we are going yet?'

'Nope.'

'How about why?'

'Nope.'

'Will I ever find out?'

'Sure, later, just not now.'

Ziva narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her after placing her keys into her purse. He chuckled and tipped his head to the side, letting a smile rest on his lips as he called for the elevator. During the ride down, Ziva could feel Gibbs' eyes darting to look at her every so often, and she found a smile creeping onto her face too; she loved being able to surprise people when she went out, show then that she _did_ have a girly side.

The cab ride was relatively short, and other than knowing roughly what area she was in, she had still had no idea where Gibbs was taking her. The cab pulled up outside a rather drab building and she raised her eyebrow, turning to look at Gibbs.

'S'right place Ziver, don't judge on its appearance.'

She shrugged and opened her door, stepping out and shivering a little. Had she been with anyone she did not know very well then she doubted she would have gotten out of the cab. Gibbs appeared at her side, arm extended. When she hesitated, he took her arm and placed it in his.

'C'mon, I want to see what you think.'

He led her down a set of stairs, very similar to those of a fire escape and through a door into a narrow hallway. The attendant stood, ready to speak to them until she saw Gibbs and then she smiled and just waved them through the second doorway, calling for 'Peter' as she did so. A man was waiting for them on the other side and Ziva had to try very hard to contain her reaction. Gibbs had most certainly been right about not judging this place too early; it was, in one word, indefinable. From what had looked like a shabby little place where untold things went on it became an open expanse with two levels – the one that they were on looked to be like a diner, with chairs and tables arranged and a kitchen and bar set to the right. Not only was there the spacious eating area, but she could also see a staircase off to the left which went down even further to some place she couldn't quite see. There was some soft music playing in the background and she could not quite place where it was coming from due to the rounded walls – it seemed almost as though it was coming from next to them. Her observations were paused while 'Peter' led them to a booth in the corner, near the entrance, although that was hidden by a small wall. Gibbs let her slide in first and then sat next to her, opening a menu for them to look at and ordering a jug of water.

'I was exactly the same the first time I came in. Blows your mind, huh?'

'That is, heh, one way to put it Gibbs. It is beyond anything I would have expected, and like nowhere I've been before. How did you find out about this? I live closer than you, and I've not even heard anyone speak of somewhere like this!'

'Had a bad case once and needed a drink. Drove around til I reached the alley up there and got out of the car to try and cool my head. A guy saw me and pointed me down to the stairs. Best bar I've been to after a bad case. Good place for a meal too, doesn't need to be a bad day to come here.'

'A very lucky and worthwhile find I believe. Am I allowed to ask what is down the stairs?'

'You can ask but you won't find out until after we've eaten.'

'What if I were to get up and walk over myself to see? After all, you cannot stop me…'

'You're right, I can't stop you, but I know you, and seeing as how you've been compliant so far my gut tells me you'll wait.'

Once again, Ziva narrowed her eyes at the man next to her; part of her wished to prove him wrong, to go and look now and return triumphantly that he had misread her, but the larger part of her wanted to see exactly how he would approach showing her whatever it was. She had no doubts, based on the events so far, that it would be worth the wait. Besides, what is a little surprise when the whole evening is based on an unknown factor?

* * *

They were both ready to order when Peter returned with their jug of water, and their food arrived quickly and steaming hot. It was certainly one of the better meals out that Ziva had eaten, although she would have preferred a little more paprika put on her chicken while it was cooking. Once their plates had been cleared and Gibbs declared that that had been a steak to rival his own fireplace steaks they sat in silence for a little while, allowing their meal to go down and their drinks to be consumed. Ziva had very little warning before Gibbs took her hand and slid out of the booth, tugging on her arm. She must have looked a little shocked at his actions because his hand loosened, moving from her arm to her hand and held it lightly.

'Changed ya mind Ziver?'

'Of course not, I just… I was not expecting you to be so, well, it was almost enthusiasm Gibbs!'

She looked down and bit the inside of her lip as she realised exactly what she had just said; was it acceptable to make not-so-veiled jibes at her boss when they were out of work? His light squeeze of her hand gave her the answer, especially when he then tipped his head towards the mysterious staircase. He took her purse and shawl from her arms and put them under his jacket, explaining that the staff here were exceptionally vigilant, and he'd booked the table for the whole evening. Arm in arm they walked over to the stair case, stopping just to the side of it.

Below them on the lower floor was a dance floor with couples spread around it, swaying to the music. Something that really caught Ziva's attention was the source of the music that had been playing all evening. It was not just a superb sound system and good choice of records, there was actually a live band and singer on a small platform.

'So, good surprise Ziva?'

'It is beautiful Gibbs, beautiful. But I still do not understand, why did you bring me here?'

'It's been a tough few days for you, probably longer. Last night really made me realise that, and I was just lucky to be in the gym when you collapsed. Obviously we don't have to – your choice – but I thought if we danced it'd be a healthier way for you to embrace that side of ya without working to the point beyond exhaustion.'

Ziva did not know what to say. She had slowly grown used to people caring for her since working at NCIS, but that did not prepare her for this level of thought. Her eyes were wide and looking deeply into Gibbs'. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but still no words came to mind. So she decided to take a leaf out of his book and rely on actions more than words. She raised her free hand to his cheek and lightly dragged it down his jaw bone, stopping short of reaching his neck. She slipped her arm down his to link her fingers with his and moved towards the stairs. Their descent was slow and no words were exchanged. They slipped through the other couples until they found a space where they stopped and looked at each other.

There was a moment of hesitation, almost an unspoken acknowledgement that anything from here on in, and in reality the whole evening, was something beyond professional, no matter how they justified it to each other and themselves. Gibbs wrapped his hand around Ziva's while she placed her other one on his shoulder, a small shudder running through her when his hand came to rest on her waist. There was definite space between them as they started to dance but as the songs blended into each other, so did the agents. Soon their bodies were touching, they were moving in synchronisation with each other. Ziva was resting her head on his chest while Gibbs had his cheek against the side of her head, catching the scent of her perfume as they changed direction.

The dance floor began to clear after a few hours, and it was only when the bell in the bar rang for last orders that Gibbs and Ziva were brought out of their reverie. They walked up the stairs to the dining area to collect their belongings, and then out of the building where they hailed a cab and were quickly on their way.

'So. See what you mean, kinda get lost in the music huh.'

'Indeed, that is something I have observed and felt. Gibbs, I… I wish to thank you for tonight. Even in my gym sessions I have not felt so free; the closest was probably when I first began to run, or the initial moment after taking a shot.'

The cab pulled up, and Ziva trailed off, unsure of anything else to say or if there was indeed anything else to be said. In the end she opted for a smile, averting her eyes as a rare feeling of shyness rushed through her. The cab had pulled up at the end of her road, so she had a little way to walk; barely four steps later she sensed Gibbs behind her and she slowed her pace a little. He did not say anything to begin with, but she felt him drape his jacket around her shoulders.

'Saw you were shivering, figured least I could do was walk you to your door.'

'You have already done so much tonight Gibbs, and I still do not understand why. Yes, you say it is because of last night, but really? You would not have done the same for Tony, or McGee would you?'

'You're wrong, just…things are different with them. Tony comes for steak nights and McGee, well, he doesn't need me, he has his books and Abby for all that. Still knows where to come if he needs me though. Can't explain it Ziver, knew you needed this so it happened. Don't regret a thing.'

'Thank you for taking me there, I know it is a special place for you, and I am glad you shared it with me. I shall see you at work tomorrow, yes?'

They had reached the entrance door to her apartment block. Neither seemed to want to say goodbye, but they both knew it had to happen, even after such an enjoyable evening. Gibbs smiled wryly and nodded. He pulled her in for a hug and was surprised when he felt a set of lips lightly brushing his own.

'Thank you… Jethro.'

He watched as she walked towards the elevator, raising his fingers as the doors closed on her. He turned and shook his head to himself, letting a laugh escape. The evening had taken a completely different turn to his plan, although if he was completely honest with himself, it was a very welcome turn indeed.

* * *

_Okay, so here's the next little chunk... Well... Large chunk I should say! Too me a little while to write and I tried my best to get it sounding in character and the description as clear as I could. By the end of it, I could visualise the building they were in so clearly I'll be surpised if I don't dream about it tonight!_

_Anyhoos, this was a little late b'day pressie to myself, and I'd love it if I could get some feedback off you guys - only got one review last chapter :/ Was it that bad?_

_As always, thank you for reading :)_

_Woody2792x_


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning at work Gibbs arrived long before Tony or McGee, and was joined by Ziva not long after. Initially there were a couple of fumbling moments, sidestepping when they would previously have just known where to be and a slight tension hanging over their silence. It quickly sorted itself out when they both went to grab a coffee before the rest of the team arrived. They shared a look in the lift which caused Gibbs to smirk and shake his head in amusement while Ziva chuckled. If anything, after the first hour of work, there was a greater fluidity to their movement. It seemed that the hours of dancing together to no particular set of steps helped them to understand each other, almost enough that they could predict and pre-empt where the other was going to be. It was as though the smallest alteration in body language and intent was amplified and easy to read.

The night before was never properly discussed - there was no need to go over what had happened. It had happened and it was no one else's business. They were not hiding it, but there was no requirement to advertise what had happened.

A few weeks later the MCRT had a really tough case involving kidnap, blackmail and a child. Ziva knew that Gibbs had taken the outcome really badly – hell, anyone who did not was living under a rock in the middle of a desert – they had not managed to save the kidnapped child, despite working for 72 hours straight and following every lead possible.

True to form, when she arrived at Gibbs' house, Ziva found him down in the basement, a nail jar full of bourbon and a sander in his hands. It was only 9pm, yet he was concentrating so hard on his boat that he did not even acknowledge her arrival. She knew that he was aware of her presence, but his lack of greeting simply proved her right in her assumption. As she approached him, she could see that despite his massive effort in sanding his new boat, despite how therapeutic he was finding it, his emotions were ruling his actions this time. The wood was splintering a little and was no smoother than a newly cut edge.

She ran her hand up his back and rested it on his shoulder. He flinched at the contact but relaxed into her touch and slowed his sanding down to nothing. His muscles trembled from the amount of effort and pressure he had been putting into his boat; Ziva lightly rubbed her thumb over his shoulder, trying to loosen him up a little.

'Gibbs, come on, follow me.'

He did not even try to protest at her interruption, instead following her up to his bedroom. She had laid out some clothes on the bed for him – a blue dress shirt, black slacks, and his going-out shoes.

'Go, have a shower and then get dressed. I shall see you downstairs, yes?'

He nodded, clearly trying to process what was going on but deciding that it was easier to go along with whatever Ziva was doing. Was likely to be better than drinking himself into oblivion.

Ziva drove them out of town for a good twenty to thirty minutes and they were surrounded by a comfortable silence with definite sombre overtones. To anyone who happened to catch a glance of them would have reached the conclusion that, given their clothes, they were homeward bound after a terrible argument having been out at a gala or event. Neither of them felt the need to break the quiet; however this did mean that Ziva had plenty of time to think through what she was doing and play out every scenario that she could think of. Her list seemed to be never ending, with a fairly equal mix of good and bad reactions. As was to be expected though, her mind was hooked on the bad ones, circling back to them no matter how she rationalised it. Gibbs was unlikely to really storm out of their destination, and nor was he likely to shout at her, but nevertheless they occupied her mind until she pulled up in a parking spot outside a small and quite dark building.

She took his hand as they walked through the door and whispered 'Just follow my lead' into his ear. Sudden warmth rushed through them and the strains of music floated over them; the very feeling and emotion of the music was welcoming and cosy. There were exotic lines threaded through it and Gibbs could not help but let it infiltrate his dark thoughts. There was even the ghost of a smile as he saw what Ziva was doing for him, in a way that she knew how. This small action reassured Ziva that this had been a reasonable choice, even if not an excellent one; his ideal evening, other than boat building, would probably have been a 24 hour shooting range where he could blast the target to smithereens.

The club itself was a great deal smaller than the one that Gibbs had taken Ziva too, however it was perfectly in-keeping with the music and overall atmosphere. Everyone was a lot closer and the air was hot with sensuality and was the perfect distraction. They went over to the bar and downed a quick glass of wine before Ziva pulled him into the middle of the crowd.

Gibbs had no idea of any of the steps other than there seemed to be a lot hip movements and tiny weight changes… Ziva noticed his lost look and could not help but laugh. She repeated her line of following her lead and took his hands in her own. She placed one a little lower than her waist and pulled him close with her own, looping it around his bicep and resting it up against his back, hand on his shoulder. She kept their other hands, her right and his left, linked at waist height. They started off simply swaying, trying to start things easily, but soon Ziva felt the music flowing through her and could not help but let herself go a little more. She made sure not to go all out and incorporate turns and twists, but she added steps backwards and forwards, letting the music guide her, and her body guide Gibbs. Soon it was as though Gibbs knew the steps, although when Ziva analysed her exact moves she found she was doing a varied mix of the tango, salsa and rumba. Their hips were swaying as much as the next couple's and they were resting their foreheads together. As the songs flowed into each other Gibbs started talking, prompting Ziva into opening her eyes and looking deeply into his.

'Not too good at this Ziver, bear with me.'

'I believe you have got the steps down quite well now, definitely a fast learner.'

'I mean the talking. Days like today, always hard. Would probably have been on the floor by now, maybe have to start a new boat tomorrow. Guess you saved that one in the basement huh?'

'I am just doing what you did for me, helping a friend in need. I figured this was the most legal way to do that.'

'Really taken my mind off it. Still there but can think a bit more logically now.'

'Shh, stop thinking. Just feel the music Gibbs.'

She knew that the body contact was helping him merely from the way that he had loosened up and was not relying on her as heavily for guidance. It was more than any embellishments or fancy dancing could have achieved, so she kept his body close to hers. There would be time for fancy moves later.

Wait, she was planning to go dancing with Gibbs again? Where did that thought come from? She tilted her head a little and brought her thoughts back to the dancing.

When they returned to Gibbs' house they sat down and had a mug of coffee, trying to let the buzz from dancing dissipate. They were both near the end of their drinks when they caught each other's eye and smiled. It had been a great evening, even if they were each now a little more aware of just how close their bodies had been and perhaps a little embarrassed about it.

'I am glad tonight helped you Gibbs, even if just for a few hours. Do not think me speaking out of turn, but I am going to say this now – you are not to go back into the basement tonight, okay?'

'Can't promise that.'

'It is 2am Gibbs, we have 6 hours before work starts, 5 before you normally start – try to get some sleep in otherwise your emotions will just build and you will feel worse than today. Trust me on that. And no one wants to work with a walking zombie.'

'It's just what I do. Happened before, it'll happen again.'

'Not tonight, Gibbs.'

As had been the practice of the evening, Ziva took his hand and led him up to his bedroom. She threw his old NIS top and sweatpants from his bed at him, and exited the room. Once he had dressed himself, she came in and sat on the edge of his bed.

'Are you going to make me watch you Gibbs?'

She could not help but let a slight yawn out, which was instantly picked up on.

'Nah, you go home. I'll be fine.'

She narrowed her eyes at him, fixing him with a suspicious look. Eventually Gibbs sighed and chuckled, he couldn't quite believe what Ziva was making him do.

'I promise I won't go down to the basement, okay?'

'Okay, fine, I shall go. But you know I will find out if you go down there. Ninja, remember?'

Gibbs smirked and shook his head a little. He pulled her into his chest when she stood up and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

'Thank you.'

Ziva nodded and smiled, and then went downstairs. She started up her car and drove down the road, pulling up in a side street. She walked back to the house, let herself in silently and curled herself up on the sofa. From the lack of movement after she returned she knew that she had been successful in her attempt to be silent.

She was only there to make sure that he actually got some sleep – it was going to be the best healer for him, if a little difficult. Her eyes shut slowly, returning to her light-sleep mode; a habit from undercover missions…

* * *

_Okay, so the tone changed a little bit in this chapter, but I hope it didn't ruin the fic at all! I hope you guys liked it, and as always, thank you for all the faves/follows/review, both anon and signed in. I do try my best to reply to each and every one I get :)_

_Quick teaser - depending on whether my muse continues in the current fashion, there may well be a proper bit of Zibbs a' comin' on the horizon ;-)_

_Woody2792x_


	7. Chapter 7

Gibbs woke up to the sound of birds chirruping outside his window and, for the first time in many years, smiled at it. He stretched his arms over his head as he wandered down the stairs and yawned widely, wondering just how he had managed to sleep that soundly after the horrors of the day before. He wrinkled his nose and moved his mind away from remembering that – there would be time to remember the child later, a more appropriate time where he could properly put the ghosts to rest. As it so happened, there was to be a debrief from Vance and a brief psychological review later in the day; no doubt he would continue his own self-repairs later in the basement with his friends Jim and Jack.

He almost made it into the kitchen before he retraced his steps back through the kitchen doorway and into the living room. There, on the sofa in front of him was Ziva, curled in on herself on the end seat of the couch with the comforter drawn around her. He re-tucked a loose corner, very gently and lightly to try not to disturb her, and then went back into the kitchen, smirking and snickering to himself. Of all the scenarios he could have been presented with when he woke up that was one that he would have never imagined, let alone guessed…

Ziva woke with a start, drawing a sharp breath in as something on the couch moved; something else placed itself on it. The weight of the other body nudged her awake, and when combined with the overpowering fresh scent of coffee, her eyes shot open. There was a short moment where she was ready for anything that was going to come at her, but when a hand touched her knee and she heard Gibbs' voice mumbling something she relaxed. He handed her a mug of her tea and settled back against the backrest to look at her, fixing her with one of his _looks_.

'Didn't expect to see you this early Ziver. Got a couple of hours til work.'

'I had to be sure Gibbs, you know how it is.'

They sat drinking in silence, comfortable with each other and the reason for it. Ziva had nearly finished hers when she shivered, letting her muscles tremble all over. Gibbs looked at her, raising one eyebrow and then took her mug out of her hands.

'Go on, have a hot shower, there're some clothes on one of the chairs you can borrow until we get to work – they are clean. Got a grab bag in your trunk?'

'Of course.'

'I'll drop you at your car on the way in; we'll arrive before anyone else.'

Ziva nodded, glad that Gibbs shared her need to keep this from the others at work. She did not wish to do it out of spite, especially since there really was nothing to hide, but it was more to do with preservation and prevention. Should anyone find out that they had both been weak and vulnerable, in front of each other, then it would lead to all sorts of speculation and that was something that neither they, nor NCIS needed.

While in Gibb's car, driving to find hers, Ziva realised just how good it was that she kept a spare bottle of scent in her grab bag – whether or not she changed her clothes she realised that she would still smell exactly like him. And as lovely as his musky scent was, it was not a good idea for her to share it. Abby would certainly notice, even if McGee and Tony did not… When they reached her car, she found that it would not start, causing her to curse in Hebrew under her breath.

'Flat Ziver?'

'The tyres seem fine, I think it is the battery Gibbs. It will not start at all.'

'I don't have jump leads with me anymore… C'mon, we'll ride in together, it's only a debrief anyway.'

After the MCRT was released from the briefing and had all received their psych appointments, Gibbs offered to give Ziva a lift back to hers seeing as her car was out of action.

'No, no, Gibbs, I am fine – I shall call a cab.'

'Don't be ridiculous, c'mon.'

'Really, it is fine, a cab will be easier because I need to do shopping as well.'

'Well do it then.'

'It is not just at one store Gibbs, I go to many little ones.'

'Doesn't bother me, quit your arguing.'

With a sigh she threw her grab bag and purse into the trunk of his car and got in the passenger door. She pointedly refused to look at him, knowing that he was doing her a massive favour but that being stubborn minded, like he was, was the wrong way. Or, seeing as she was now in the car, the right way. She shook her head to stop herself debating this fact, opting to look out of the window instead, avoiding all possibility of seeing the smirk that was undoubtedly forming on his lips. It was only once they were driving and he asked where they were going that she laughed at herself, smiling when he joined in.

She told him where to park up, and then got out of the car with her purse, surprised when he came with her. He just shrugged and muttered that he was curious where she got her 'hokey pokey' things from. They went into a small corner shop first of all and Gibbs could not help the surprised look that graced his face. This was such a stereotypical 'small town' shop, with dozens of shelves and many more jars lining them. There was a label on each jar, with the price per weight underneath. It was clear that Ziva came here often as she knew exactly where to go to pick up the jars she wanted; she was carrying three jars herself and she gestured to an extra two to Gibbs. He grabbed them and followed her to the cashier who then proceeded to weigh out her orders into miniature labelled jars. She paid up and then led him through a couple of streets to her next store. This one seemed to sell spices as opposed to herbs like the previous store; instead of a self selection store this was solely counter-service so she passed her list to the lad. They made one final trip to the superstore where she bought general groceries and then they drove back to Ziva's house.

Ziva took the shopping bags from Gibbs when they were in the kitchen and she bustled around putting some bits away and keeping a few out. Gibbs figured it was safer to stand still while she did this; otherwise he was liable to get bumped into, or covered in paprika…

'Gibbs, would you like to stay for dinner? I have plenty for two people.'

'Got steak and a fireplace back home, I'm good.'

'Please? It is the least I can do after you have driven me around today and accompanied me while shopping.'

'You have nothing to make up for. If anything I should be making _you_ dinner.'

'Well do me the honour of being my dinner guest instead then. I shall not take no for an answer Gibbs, so you may as well relent now and accept your fate.'

Together they made dinner, moving almost as one person around the kitchen. Ziva wrote out her recipe so that Gibbs knew what was getting done and how, and he took it upon himself to start helping. He created the mix spice while Ziva prepared the chicken; when she tasted it she smiled and commented on how close it was to her own variation, before adding a pinch more sage. She then mixed it and lifted the spoon to Gibbs' lips; he agreed with her.

Before long everything had cooked in the oven, been devoured and they were sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine in hand. There was music playing softly in the background, too quiet to be distinctive or distinguishable, yet it was _there_ enough to set a calm and relaxing mood.

'So, I was unaware you were such a good cook Gibbs, perhaps you _should_ cook for me one day!'

They passed the time with casual and easy conversation, sharing cooking stories, recipes and kitchen disasters. This flowed easily into talk about other life events, everyday things and eventually it became the wine that carried the conversation. Neither one of them were drunk enough to be unaware of what was being said nor was the alcohol commanding the conversation, but it was certainly doing no harm. A gentle break arrived in the conversation and almost as though it was the natural thing to do they both leaned in and their lips touched.

It was by no means a 'passionate kiss', but it was not a chaste one either. It resembled the sort of one that couples gave each other after a month or so of dating, a comfortable kiss that said everything that it had to without using words. They broke contact and both were at a loss of what to say or do, or even how to explain what had happened. They seemingly took it in turns to open their mouths to say something before shutting it again, words dying before they were even formed. They exchanged small smiles before awkwardly looking the other way.

Gibbs swirled his wine around the bottom of his glass before tipping his head to Ziva and downing his drink. Before he could change his mind, or think too hard about what he was about to do, he placed one hand on Ziva's thigh and the other on her cheek, turning her face towards his. He leant in and pressed his lips against hers for the second time that evening.

* * *

_Okay, so massive apologies for being such a fail... I know I said I'd update as soon as I could, and 12 days is a lot later than I had envisaged, however there have been valid reasons. Firstly, I managed to fall at work right onto my back, so the painkillers killed my muse from that, then last Tuesday i had to go under general anaesthetic to have *all* my wisdom teeth out... Still in massive pain over that, although I am slightly more human today :)_

_I'm so sorry it took me so long, but I figured that writing while pumped full of goodness knows what drugs was a bad idea... Hope I still have some readers out there!_

_Anyhoos, thank you to all who have read/alerted/favourited this fic - oit's slowly turning into one of my favourite works :) It would be lovely to hear from you guys!_

_Woody2792x_


	8. Chapter 8

His lips were so soft against hers, moving gently with an underlying intent that warmed Ziva all the way through her body. His hands were gently stroking her face, leaving her tingling where they traced. He pulled back from her for a brief moment, fixing her in a look with his deep blue eyes. She had just enough time to notice how dilated his pupils were before he kissed her again. One of his hands moved to her hair, weaving his fingers into it and pulling gently. She moaned quietly, leaning into his touch and nibbling his lower lip, smiling as she felt him take a deep breath at it.

She could feel herself almost losing herself in the feeling of having Gibbs against her, but she could not help but notice that there were questions going through her mind relentlessly. Where was this going? Was it anywhere other than just to another few meaningless kisses? Was it just a fling or just the alcohol? She could just imagine the way the conversation would pan out, and it would end in her being a mixture of humiliated and embarrassed when he found out that she would not be adverse to something meaningful with him… She pulled back from the kiss, and looked up into his eyes, biting her lips as she did so.

'Thanks for the meal Ziva, should probably be going now before the rain becomes a storm, meant to be a bad one tonight.'

She nodded and he made his move to the front door, quicker than she would have liked. She had barely reached the front door by the time he had stepped through it, and other than a vague glance back, there were no words shared, no proper goodbye. She returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, her finger lightly tracing her lips; it was almost as though she could still feel him there…

Did him leaving mean that she was right, that this was something as simple as a tipsy mistake, something that meant nothing… Was it confirmation that he did not want anything with her, anything more than a working relationship? It could not have been the alcohol, simply because they were both still fit to drive… When combined with the warmth and food it was an exceptionally heady mixture, but she knew that he was still legal for driving on the roads, as was she. So no matter how she tried to rationalise it, alcohol was not a major factor in his behaviour, which once again lead her to think that it had meant nothing and he was just high-tailing it out of there. Was this what everything had been working to, one devastatingly perfect kiss on the sofa, marred by the immediate awkwardness and escape?

Surely there was more behind it, there simply _had_ to be more to it than that. Thinking back over everything, the closeness during their dances was almost more intimate in quantity than some of her experiences of sleeping and being with men. He had seemed more at peace with her than not, and it was especially evident after their last case; that sort of feeling could not be achieved with just anyone, could it?

More than that though, the effect he had on her was beyond anything she could have imagined or predicted. This feeling was more than just having a soft spot for someone; this was far deeper, almost ethereal in its ability to get under her skin and into her head, occupying all of her thoughts.

With a start, she stood up. She knew _exactly_ what she had to do. Sparing just enough time to make a cool instant coffee and down it, she grabbed her keys and ran out to her car. Even if there was nothing to come of this evening, the awkwardness upon his leaving was simply not an acceptable option. Rain was lashing at the glass in front of her, the wind was picking up around her car, but it was inconsequential and barely impinged on her senses. The journey seemed to be taking far too long, but in another sense, almost too short. This was going to be the making or breaking point, and she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say or do; it was her first time going into action without a mission plan. Then again, this was no ordinary mission.

There was a crash of thunder as she pulled up on his driveway, masking the sound of her slamming her door. She hadn't even made it halfway to his front door before he came running out of the house, throwing a jacket on, keys gripped tightly in one hand. He was struggling with his jacket, not looking where he was going, and the wind was carrying Ziva's words away from him. It was only when she grabbed his shoulder tightly, putting herself in his way, that he seemed to see her, surprise registering on his face.

'Was just coming back to yours, should never have left tonight.'

Ziva did not even bother formulating a reply, opting to throw her arms around him instead, one at the nape of his neck to pull his lips to hers and the other was at his waist to pull his body flush against hers, removing all space between them.

The kiss seemed endless, neither of them bothered by the rain falling around them, the leaves blowing at their feet or the lightning flashing through the sky at increasingly short intervals. It was almost as though nature was providing them a visual and audible manifestation of their emotions and passion. Not only were they standing at the centre of a storm, but they were creating one of their own as well.

* * *

_Okay, so I appreciate that this is a rather short chapter, and again, a little later than planned… Blame me going to see Kelly Clarkson/my recent effect on technology which seems to kill it…_

_This is also the penultimate chapter. There will be an epilogue at some point in the next week or so – I'm guessing that it'll be a similar length to this chapter, completely dependent on my muse…_

_Also considering writing a small sMut piece to accompany this chapter – will be posted as a separate story. _

_Many thanks for all faves/follows/reviews; my laptop is currently on its deathbed which is rather hampering to my writing… I shall endeavour to upload as soon as I can. Hope to hear from you!_

_Woody2792x_


	9. Chapter 9

She stretched out with her hand, feeling for the one next to her. Fingertips touched, and with a smile on both faces, their fingers interlinked. There was a large archway in front of them, fluidly lying out over them as they walked under it to the main door. They were greeted at the entrance and ushered in through the hallway to the reception room where there was a large throng of people bustling about, drinking and talking.

'Are you sure about this? We can leave it until some other day if you want…'

'Nothing I'd rather do Ziver, don't want to hide it anymore. Unless that's what you want.'

'No. I know I am good at being a ninja, but this is not something to hide.'

Gibbs leant down and pressed a light kiss to her lips, squeezing her hand as he did so.

'C'mon then, DiNozzo should be around here somewhere, said their taxi was due twenty minutes ago.'

Together they wandered around the hall, making small talk to the Marines that came up to them until they reached the buffet table. As could have been predicted, the whole team was there, waiting for Tony to stop piling his plate up. Abby was the first to see them together, and it was her lack of chatting that caused the others to look their way. McGee regained the ability to speak long before the other two, smiling and tipping his head in their direction.

'Good to see you boss; Ziva, you look lovely.'

'Thank you Tim, it is one of my favourites despite it being a memento from Mossad.'

'The colour looks lovely, complements your skin.'

'And you wonder why the ladies think you swing the other way Probie! Although I must agree, you scrub up well David. Rather odd really… Ow! Abs! What was that for?!'

'One, don't be so mean to Timmy, not on a night like tonight which is to celebrate and be respectful. And two, Ziva _always_ scrubs up well! She doesn't even have to be in a dress to be scrubbed up, but since she is, and we're on the topic, you do look amazing, like, out of this world type amazing. Not an astronaut amazing, cos that'd be weird and not overly flattering, but the dress is so–'

'Breathe, Abby. Although I must say, surely an astronaut's suit would be flattering – if not to someone's figure then their brain, no?'

'I'd never have thought of it that way Zi… Well, maybe eventually, but I can totally see where you're coming from. And I would concur!'

Almost without thinking Gibbs squeezed Ziva's hand again, pulling it up to his waist and kissing the side of her head. He only really noticed what he had done when DiNozzo coughed and tipped his plate towards McGee, losing a couple of his mini food parcels, much to the latter Agent's disgust.

'Tony! What're you doing? Can't you even keep your plate level?!'

'Probie, did you just miss what happened? I think there're more important things to comment on other than a slight smear on your stupidly polished shoes.'

'And the sauce down my pant legs, and the fact that you're being ridiculously loud and disturbing everyone else?'

'Exactly, now you're getting it. Abs, I think you gotta take it from here, my head won't take the beatings if I speak…'

'See Gibbs? He does learn some things, occasionally! But yes, how long has this – ' Abby made some wild gestures towards the pair in front of her, threatening to knock Tony's plate again until McGee grabbed her wrists and lowered them, ' –been going on, why don't we know about it, how did it start, tell us everything!'

Gibbs smirked and grabbed a plate of canapés, a drink, and then everyone wandered to one of the little tables set out; there was still a good 45 minutes until the event officially started – that would have to be enough time to satisfy Abby's curiosity!

Half an hour later and they had managed to negotiate a large number of 'awwhs' and nods, as well as a few mutterings from Tony's end that ceased with a glare from either Gibbs or Ziva. Abby had taken Ziva down a tangent, discussing dancing and the possibly therapeutic meaning of it, whether personal or general, leaving Gibbs staring at his two other agents.

'What about Rule 12 Gibbs? I mean, I figured that out of all your rules, that was the unbreakable one…'

'Didn't plan on it Tony. It's nothing casual either. Not gonna make excuses for breaking a rule, but dating is casual, this isn't.'

'You really like her don't you boss.'

'Ya think McGee?'

'I think you're right for each other. Balance each other out.'

There was no time for Gibbs to respond as there was a round of applause as a man took to the stage.

'Good evening and thank you very much for attending 2013's Navy-Marine Corps Ball. All the money raised from tonight, as I hope you all know, will be going to the Navy-Marine Relief Society, and through that it will help…'

After the speeches and main meals the band started to play a few jazzy songs and couples took to the floor. There were a couple of minutes of hesitation at the MCRT's table, not quite sure what to make of everything. In the end Tony stood up and gestured to Gibbs and Ziva.

'Go on then, go dance. Probie and Abs will when you go, and I'm going to go find myself a rather lovely looking lady in uniform… just…about… There, she's looking for a partner. Seeya later guys.'

Tony disappeared into the swaying crowd, weaving his way through them, focussed completely on his target. Gibbs fixed McGee with a stare until Ziva nudged his shoulder.

'Leave them Jethro, come, let us dance.'

He stood up with a chuckle, tipping his head towards McGee and Abby, nodding while smiling. He then took Ziva's hand and led her to a space in the crowd.

'McGee… The Bossman just smiled, and…and… you… and… Let's go party!'

They were swaying slowly to the music, Ziva's head resting against Gibbs' chest, his slow and steady heartbeat echoing through her body, fusing with the music, and resulting in an innate sense of calm within her.

'What do you think of what McGee said, Jethro?'

'Mm?'

'You know what I mean, do not play coy with me.'

'I don't know what you want me to say Ziver. Every time I think about anything like this, I can't quite believe I'm the guy who gets to hold you in his arms, wake up to you. There are so many reasons why we shouldn't work; Rule 12 was one I had control over.'

'If you think like that, then at least I am not alone. I do not understand why you are with me when there are plenty of other women out there with far fewer demons than I carry, someone who is less risky and has better morals. There are many reasons why we do work Jethro, and all we can do is remember those when our doubts start to take over.'

'I have such a bad track record with relationships, I don't want to hurt you. Then there's the age gap – you could have anyone you wanted Ziver, yet you settle for an old man like me? Don't make much sense.'

'I would not change a thing about you, not one.'

'Not even…ooh… My caffeine addiction?'

'Nope. Although if we could have been together earlier, then that I would change. Although I think everything we have been through has led to this time, making it possible for us to be together and survive.'

There was a moment of silence as they looked into each others' eyes, bodies still swaying, still impossibly close to each other. Intuitively, they leant into each other, their lips touched lightly, and then they broke apart and continued to dance in silence, holding each other tightly. They may each have had their own demons of varying quantity, context and age, but they merely acted to put them on a level playing field. They meant that Ziva and Gibbs both held immeasurable strength, they were equally vulnerable, and together, they were a completed jigsaw puzzle.

* * *

_Firstly, so so sorry it's taken me this long to update, I had so many issues trying to wrap this story up - part of me really didn't want to (resulting in my muse running away from me like a shooting star in space), but the other part knew it was time. I have loved being a part of Zibbs-verse, and will definitely be returning._

_You guys kinda have to thank ZC for this chapter - she helped me with the setting (N-M C Ball), although I take responsibility for any mistakes/inaccuracies._

_It has been a lovely journey, and I hope to hear from you! Woody2792x_


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